


Bruises

by todobroki_s



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (depending on how you look at it), Abuse, Adopted Yuri Plisetsky, Canon Continuation, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Child Abuse, Coach Victor Nikiforov, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Happy Ending, Height Differences, Hurt/Comfort, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, M/M, Major Character Injury, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Minor Injuries, Overworking, Post-Yuri!!! on Ice, Protective Katsuki Yuuri, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Soft Yuri Plisetsky, Verbal Abuse, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, mentions of adoption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-06-29 02:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15720123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todobroki_s/pseuds/todobroki_s
Summary: It had been nearly a month since Yuuri and Viktor got married, and nearly a month since they'd seen young Yuri Plisetsky. On a journey back to Russia to visit the blonde teen, Viktor and Yuuri are forced to make difficult decisions. That is how they end up with a crying fifteen-year-old boy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I added the Abuse, Verbal Abuse, and Child Abuse tags for this fic just to be on the safe side. Please note that the abuse is non-intentional and more of overworking. The verbal abuse is just that, but more sarcastic and condescending comment towards a certain blonde. Anyway, I added the tags just in case. Oh, and nothing is graphic.

Viktor had sat quietly on the plane, holding Yuuri's hand in his right while he changed playlists with his left. They'd been on the plane for a while now (flying from California to Russia was a bitch), and the landing was rapidly approaching. Sweeping his silver hair from aqua eyes, Viktor turned to his husband. 

 

"I heard Yuri got a new coach." he murmured quietly so only Yuuri could hear.

 

Yuuri's eyebrows furrowed, pulling out an earbud and prompting Viktor to repeat himself.

 

"What happened to Yakov?" Yuuri questioned.

 

"Last I heard he had retired." Viktor shrugged, giving a gentle tug to Yuuri's hand. 

 

As wedding rings, they'd decided to get real gold replicas of the promise rings they'd had months prior. The gold gleamed in the sunlight filtering in through the small windows. 

 

"Does he have a new coach?" Yuuri continued.

 

"As a matter of fact, he does. His name is Demyan." Viktor replied, smiling sweetly. 

 

"Perhaps we should pay Yurio a visit then? If he's still at the same rink, we can swing by on our way into the city." Yuuri offered.

 

"That sounds fantastic! I have been wondering how the Little Russian Kitty has been doing." Viktor cheered.

 

The married couple grinned charmingly at each other, sharing a brief kiss before returning to their activities. 

 

* * *

 

 

Many hours later, Yuuri and Viktor had arrived at their old rink. It brought back several childhood memories for Viktor. The silver-haired man took a minute to walk around the railing, admiring the many posters of famous skaters and various other objects hanging from the walls. His focus was broken when he heard a gruff voice shout "Do it again!".

 

Immediately, Viktor and Yuuri had turned their attention to the rather tall and muscular man with curling brown hair. His finger jabbed angrily at the corner of the rink and his posture portrayed his attitude.  A small blonde had quickly skated to the corner, racing forward and performing a salchow, and - from what Viktor had interpreted- attempted to land the jump of his toe pick. While it was dangerous as well as incredibly difficult, it was an elegant move. One that Yuuri had become quite good at. Viktor couldn't say the same for young Yuri Plisetsky as his foot appeared to move at an odd angle and he fell to the floor. The husbands frowned simultaneously, creeping down the stairs and to the main floor. 

 

The poor boy looked as if he hadn't slept in days. His eyes were red and glassy, dark backs forming under his normally brilliant green eyes. Yuuri wondered briefly if he and Viktor should leave- that the teen wouldn't be amused to have either of them here to witness his failures. However, that line of thought was interrupted by a growl from Yuri's coach.

 

"I could have done that when I was half your age! Some _'prima ballerina'_ you are! I have seen rocks with more grace than that. It's pathetic, truly pathetic, to watch." the man paused, dark eyes gleaming with rage.

 

All the while Yuri had managed an expression of a child being scolded. 

 

"Get water and return quickly." Demyan barked.

 

Yuri had skated, slightly off balance, to the main section and bleachers. Upon arrival, he glanced up at Viktor and Yuuri.

 

"We were in town and decided to stop by!" Viktor cheered.

 

Yuri's mood seemed unaffected as he took a long pull of water. 

 

"Fun." he muttered, flipping near platinum blonde hair out of vivid green eyes.

 

"You look tired Yurio, is everything okay?" Yuuri pondered.

 

"I'm fine. It was nice to-" Yuri began, flinching as his coach yelled at him again.

 

"I have to go..." he trailed off.

 

Viktor and Yuuri watched with similar perplexed expressions as Yuri retreated.  _No yelling? No swearing? No name-calling? What had they done to Yurio?_

 

Viktor had taken notice of the empty, exhausted look in Yuri's eyes or the way they seemed to glean with unshed tears. Without a second thought, Viktor took a seat on the bleachers, preparing to watch Yuri's practice.

 

"I want to see his improvement." he supplied Yuuri with an answer.

 

As another hour flew by, he'd witnessed several more falls from the young skater and harsh scolding from the coach. Yuri still had fifteen minutes left of practice and looked as if he'd fall asleep at any moment. This time, as Yuri performed and failed the leap, he landed harshly on his ankle. Viktor and Yuuri winced in sympathy as Yuri let out a yelp. The coach had snarled, throwing more insults at the skater until Yuri managed to pull himself from the ground. Viktor had to force himself to remain in the bleachers and not run to Yuri's aid. He couldn't help but care for the boy, whom he'd known for a few years now. By the time practice was over, Yuri looked seconds away from crying. He'd returned to meet Yuuri and Viktor, making a face as he climbed the stairs.

 

"Practice seemed intense." Yuuri inputted.

 

"Yeah, it's pretty rigorous but nothing I can't handle." Yuri replied.

 

"You didn't land a single jump. Rather than yell at you, he should've explained-" Viktor cut himself off as Yuri's eyes filled with tears.

 

"Yuri, my Little Kitten, are you okay?" Viktor questioned.

 

"Fine, just tired." Yuri replied, voice tight.

 

Where are you heading to? Viktor and I would be more than happy to take you there." Yuuri offered, silently pleading Yuri to agree.

 

The blonde gave a slight nod, hauling his bag onto his shoulder and following the elder skaters out of the rink.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Viktor and Yuuri walked hand-in-hand out of the rink while Yuri trailed behind them. Viktor turned to glance over his shoulder at the young boy. He was perplexed by the young teen's countenance to say the least. If there was one thing Viktor knew about Yuri, it was that the boy was always either pissed at the world or completely stoic. To see Yuri walking with his head down, white-blonde banks pulled to shield his face, and black hood covering his eyes, was unsettling. 

Nevertheless, it was already dark outside and lightly snowing. 

"You did very well at practice today, Yuri!" Yuuri complemented.

 

Yuri gave him a quizzical look before sniffing and turning his attention back to his shoes. 

Yuuri and Viktor shared worried glances as Viktor grabbed the keys to unlock the car. Yuri waited to the side, fiddling with his hands in his pockets.

After Viktor pressed the button, the car doors unlocked and the one on the back, right side, slid open.

"Alright, where too?" Viktor expressed, adjusting the rear view mirror and buckling himself in.

Yuri climbed into the back seat, plopping down and buckling himself in as well.

Before the blonde even opening his mouth, Yuuri gave an idea.

"Do you want to spend the night at the apartment with us, Yura?" 

Yuri glanced between the two of them, his mind overtaken with an exhausted fog. He barely managed to shrug, leaning his head against the cool glass and staring out at the street lights.

Yuuri and Viktor nodded to each other before Viktor began to back out of the parking space.

"Are you just tired, Yura?" Viktor asked in Russian. 

"Da..." Yuri sighed.

"He's just warn out." Viktor relayed to Yuuri.

As the drive continued, Yuuri found himself constantly looking back at the small blonde in the backseat. About twenty minutes into the thirty minute drive, Yuuri noticed how Yuri's head lulled to the side, his breathing evened out, and he'd curled in on himself. It made Yuuri smile like a proud parent despite the fact that Yuri was fifteen and would most definitely kill Yuuri if he ever found out. When they pulled into the flat's outdoor parking lot, Yuuri and Viktor both unbuckled their seat belts and climbed out of the car. Pulling the handle so the doors slid closed, the stepped around the back to open Yuri's car door. As predicted, the small blonde was fast asleep. Viktor had never seen the child look so peacful, even when he was younger.

"Should we wake him?" Yuuri whispered.

"Just go unlock the door and I'll carry him." Viktor whispered back, reaching over to unbuckled Yuri.

Once he'd freed him from the seat belt he gently slid one arm under his knees and the other behind his neck, effectively scooping the child into his arms. Yuri's head rolled against his shoulder but he didn't wake up. Yuuri made a soft "awe" sound behind them before they started out through the door. 

Viktor had no problem carrying the child as he was fairly fit and Yuri weighed no more than a twelve year old girl. Carrying him through the house, Viktor toed open the door to the guest room. Gently laying Yuri down, he motioned Yuuri over from behind him. Together, they carefully took off the boy's jacket and shoes. Viktor stopped suddenly, mouth agape as he saw the light bruising and swelling on Yuri's ankles. 

"From the jumps?" Yuuri supplied.

Viktor nodded, continuing to stare at the purple marks around the boy's toes and ankles. It did appear as though they were from skating and the jumps (Viktor'd had many like that in his own time as a skater) however, he knew from experience that Yuri was going to be in pain tomorrow. Trying to squeeze swollen and bruised feet into tight-fitting ice skates was certainly going to bring some level of discomfort to the boy. Thinking no more about it, Viktor pulled the blankets around Yuri's petite body. Viktor and Yuuri left the room, flipping the lights off, and quietly shutting the door.

Once returning to their own room, the husbands had a conversation. 

"Where is he living now?" Viktor asked.

"Likely with his coach." Yuuri replied.

"Something about that man sets off red flags." Viktor continued.

"I agree. The way he yelled at Yuri was completely unprofessional." Yuuri inputted.

 

"Tomorrow when he gets up, I want to know who has custody of him." Viktor stated.

Yuuri nodded silently as the married couple drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Yuri woke to an acute throbbing in his feet. Curling in on himself to try and make the pain go away, he realized he wasn't in a car and instead a soft bed. Green eyes shot open as he peered around the room. It was Viktor's flat, he realised. He'd been here multiple times when he was a kid when Yakov or Lilia were busy and Viktor would take care of him. The gentle knock on the door startled him into full awareness before he grumbled a "come in".

Much to his surprise, it was just the air-headed Russian. 

"How are you feeling, Yuratchka?" He asked in Russian.

"I feel fine." Yuri mumbled back.

Truth was, he was in a hell of a lot of pain. He'd die before willingly telling that to Viktor though.

"That's good. Yuuri and I are moving back here now so we had come back to get the flat ready and figured we'd come visist you. How is your new coach?" Viktor continued.

"Fine." Yuri grit out, eyes filling with tears despite his efforts. 

 

"Do your ankles hurt, little one?" Viktor asked quietly. 

Yuri wanted to choke him, to scream at him to never call him that again or he'd end him, but all he could manage was a tiny nod.

"I'll go get you some ice for them then." Viktor murmured in a soft voice before exiting the room.

Yuri was left bewildered by both the situation and Viktor's reaction. Was he crying because of the pain in his ankle or because of his coach? Viktor, who normally spoke in a loud, bubbly tone, had just spoken to him the way one would a frightened puppy. Yuri didn't know whether to want to kill or hug him for that. 

Moments later, the elder returned with two small ice packs. Taking the hint, Yuri pulled his feet from underneath the blankets. Viktor propped them up on a pillow before placing the bags of ice over his ankles. The cold temperature combined with the light pressure made Yuri hiss with discomfort. 

"I'm sorry, Yura." Viktor mentioned. 

Yuri grit out a response before dismissing Viktor and pulling his phone from the night stand beside the bed.


End file.
